


A Knight in Shining Blue Armor

by LittlebutFiery



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M, Non-Graphic Attempted Rape, Pre-Relationship, but Jean saves the day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 17:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15690231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: While visiting Riza, Rebecca goes out for a night on the town. As she's trying to get home, she's accosted by some criminals, and an unexpected knight in shining armor rides in to save the day.





	A Knight in Shining Blue Armor

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a lovely anon on Tumblr, based on a prompt list I reblogged - they sent me "You're going out dressed like that?" Hope you enjoy, Nonny!

“You’re going out dressed like that?”

Rebecca stopped, turning to face Riza. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Well...you’re barely wearing anything,” Riza said simply, an eyebrow raised. She was bundled up in her bathrobe under a blanket, a wet washcloth on her forehead.

Rebecca looked down. She had indeed picked her tiniest, slinkiest, most scandalous dress and her highest heels, the heels that made her look like she had legs for days and a flawless ass. “Yeah, so?”

“You...haven’t dressed like that to go out in a long time. Is everything okay?” Riza asked, frowning.

“I’m fine, Ri. Sometimes a girl’s just gotta strut her stuff, y’know?” Rebecca laughed.

“I don’t, really,” Riza admitted with a soft chuckle. “Have fun, Becca. I’m sorry I’m staying home.”

“You’ve got a bad headache, going out would be awful for you,” Rebecca waved her off. “Are you sure you don’t mind me going out anyway? I mean, I came to Central to visit you…”

“You didn’t come to Central to coddle me while I sleep off a headache,” Riza smiled. “You came to have some fun girls’ days and nights. So go have one. We can do something together tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Rebecca nodded, walking towards the door. “Feel better, Ri.”

“I will. Be safe, Becca. Call if you need anything. If I can’t get there, I’ll send the Colonel,” Riza insisted.

“I will,” Rebecca promised before heading outside.

In truth, she didn’t feel particularly attractive or desirable tonight - she had no desire to “strut her stuff.” She would much rather be at home with Riza, listening to their favorite radio drama.

But she’d spent the last three days unable to shake the Eastern Command’s secretaries’ jeers from her head. She’d had _one_ one-night stand with a lieutenant from Southern Headquarters and suddenly all those catty girls would whisper about was what a whore Rebecca was.

Fine. If she was going to be called a whore, then damn it, she’d be the best damn whore they’d ever gossip about.

She was going to have some drinks, chat up some handsome guys, and get it on with the first man who seemed even slightly interested. Riza would scold her in the morning, but for now, she didn’t care.

If she had the reputation, she was going to make sure she’d at least earned it.  


Several hours later - two, maybe, or three, but Rebecca had lost track of time almost as soon as she began drinking - and Rebecca’s nerve and anger were gone, replaced with nothing but shame and self-loathing.

Sure, she’d had some one-night stands before. She’d had drunken hookups. But there had always been connections first, dazzling chemistry that made her unable to resist. She had never once gone out with the intention of getting laid. It just...happened.

Sitting here at the bar, looking for a hookup, felt...wrong. It wasn’t her, not at all. None of the men she’d talked to or flirted with had been remotely interesting, even if they’d been very interested.

Great. She couldn’t even _earn_ her sullied reputation. She couldn’t even be a goddamn slut correctly.

When the bartender caught Rebecca crying into her martini, he made her another drink, on the house. She accepted his generosity without protest, downed it in one gulp, paid her tab, and began to prepare herself for the long stumble back to Riza’s apartment.

She caught her toe on the doorjamb as she left the bar, landing hard on the sidewalk and beginning to cry again. Fuck, she was _really_ drunk, and she didn’t have any more cash for a payphone or a cab. Honestly, she didn’t even remember the way back to Riza’s. It was going to be a long, sobering shuffle around Central trying to find her way home.

Rebecca picked herself up, roughly wiped away her tears, and picked a direction to walk in. She’d get home by herself, damn it. Sure, she was lost, but she’d dealt with a lot more terrifying circumstances than being disoriented and drunk in Central. She could do this.

Her walk was uneventful for the first few minutes as she tottered down a busy road. When she took a shortcut through an alley, though, that changed.

“Well, hel- _lo_ , beautiful,” a voice purred from somewhere behind Rebecca as she made her way through the disgusting alleyway.

She yelped and whirled around to see a trio of large, burly men, all with leering grins. Fuck, she did _not_ need this tonight. “Fuck off, okay? It’s been a shitty night and I want to go home.”

“Maybe we can make your night a little better, hmm?” the man who’d spoken laughed. “Show you a good time, have some fun.”

“I said _fuck off_. I’m not looking for any action,” Rebecca spat, turning to leave.

In a flash, the man was in front of her, blocking her way. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’s not polite to refuse someone’s hospitality.”

“What the fuck part of fuck off is hard to understand?” Rebecca hissed, moving to walk around him.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her back towards him. His smirk had gone very sour, and there was anger in his beady eyes. “I’ve asked nicely. Don’t make me get nasty.”

Panic sent a cold chill down Rebecca’s spine. She swung her purse at him, trying to shake off his grip, but he caught her blow easily and tossed her purse aside. She whimpered, “Wait, please...please let me go…”

“Aww, looks like this little bitch doesn’t have much bite after all. She’s all bark,” the man laughed to his friends, who snorted. “You’re coming with us, princess.”

Rebecca could feel tears again as she fought his grip. She was far too drunk and he was far too strong, his meaty fist locked around her slender wrist. He began dragging her along behind him, even as she struggled and kicked and cried.

“Help! Please! Somebody!” Rebecca shrieked. “Somebody, help!”

“Shut up, bitch!” the man hissed, backhanding her hard enough to make her nose bleed. He lifted her as though she weighed no more than a doll, slinging her over his shoulder as he and his cronies walked towards an idling car.

Rebecca wailed for help again, prompting the man to clamp a hand over her mouth.

“Hey, assholes! Pick on somebody your own size!” an oddly familiar voice called from the other end of the alley.

“The fuck?” Rebecca’s assailant demanded, whirling around.

“She asked you to leave her alone. So leave her alone,” the new voice ordered.

The three men laughed. “Or what? We ain’t scared of you, pretty boy.”

“Last chance, or this’ll get ugly,” the stranger warned.

“Ha! Jimmy, Tony, fuck him up,” Rebecca’s captor laughed.

Rebecca couldn’t see anything, facing away from the fight as she was, but it sounded vicious, yelps and angry cries and the sounds of blows echoing down the alleyway. After a while, though, there was silence, save the victor’s heavy breathing.

“You gonna try to fight me too, or are you gonna let the lady go?”

Relief shot through Rebecca - the man trying to help her had won. Maybe...maybe she’d be able to get home in one piece after all.

Her captor tossed her to the ground and spat, “You want her, asshole, come get her!”

Rebecca stayed curled up on the ground, frightened and disoriented and far, far too drunk to be of any help to her would-be savior. She tried to not listen to the fight going on beside her, as though her ignorance would help the stranger.

Finally, the sounds of struggle stopped. Rebecca only curled up tighter, heart pounding, tears streaming down her cheeks.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder and she screamed, trying to escape the man’s grip. He insisted, “Shhh, shh, it’s okay! They’re all knocked out. They’re not going to hurt you. I’ve got you.”

She looked up, ready to thank her rescuer, and was stunned to recognize his face, those bright blue eyes and that shaggy blond hair.

“Jean?” she whispered.

“Rebecca?” Jean blinked, surprised. “Shit, are you okay? What happened?”

“I…” Rebecca started. She stopped, threw her arms around Jean, and began to wail.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jean soothed, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. They’re not gonna hurt you. You’re okay. I promise. I’m here.”

When Rebecca’s tears finally slowed down, he asked again, even more gently, “What happened?”

“Riza’s sick so I went out by myself,” Rebecca mumbled, avoiding his eyes. “I...got really drunk and I’m lost and these guys cornered me…”

“You’re staying with Riza, yeah? C’mon, I’ll get you back there,” Jean said. “You need some sleep and some TLC, I think, and you’ll be okay.”

Rebecca nodded. She smiled up at him, opened her mouth to thank him, and passed out, crumpling against his chest.

 

Riza all but ran to the door when she heard the knock. She’d been anxiously waiting for it - Becca should’ve been home a long time ago. Riza had already called most of the bars Becca liked, and even a police station and a hospital. Had it been any longer, she would’ve called the Colonel and sent a search party out.

She threw open the door and blinked hard, not expecting what she saw.

Jean Havoc stood there, a brilliant bruise forming on his cheek and blood trickling down his chin from his split lip. In his arms was an unconscious Rebecca, her face covered with blood as well.

“Okay, look, it’s not what it looks like,” Jean began. “Probably.”

“What happened?” Riza demanded, stepping aside so Jean could come in.

“She was really, really drunk, and a couple of creeps cornered her in an alley. Thankfully, I heard her screaming for help,” Jean explained. “They’re all in worse shape than we are. She’s just...passed out. Had a bit too much to drink.”

Panic gripped Riza for a moment before relief filled its place. “Thank god you were there, Jean. I...wouldn’t have forgiven myself if...something happened and I wasn’t there.”

“She’s gonna have a headache in the morning, I think, but she’ll be okay,” Jean said. “Little shaken up, but okay.”

Riza nodded. “Let’s get her to bed.”

“We should probably get her cleaned up a little bit, too,” Jean agreed, following Riza through her apartment.

Riza pointed Jean towards the guest room while she headed into her bathroom, wetting a washcloth.

Jean sat on the edge of the bed, cheeks faintly pink, as Riza returned. Rebecca’s shoes were set neatly by the bed, and he’d picked her pajamas up off the floor, but he was staring at them like they were poisonous. He managed, “I, uh...know she’d probably be really pissed if I was the one to get her into her pajamas, so, uh, you’ll have to do that.”

Riza chuckled. “I can do that. Here, how about you clean her face up first?”

He accepted the wet cloth, gently dabbing at the dried blood on Rebecca’s face. There was odd emotion in Jean’s eyes as he worked, so Riza asked, “Are _you_ alright, Jean?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” Jean nodded, still focused on Rebecca. “The guys were big, but I’m fast. They only got a couple hits in.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Riza scolded gently.

Jean was quiet for a long time before admitting, “I should’ve been there sooner. I ran as fast as I could when I heard her screaming for help, but…”

“Jean, you couldn’t have known,” Riza assured him. “It’s a miracle you were there at all.”

“...yeah, you’re right,” Jean nodded, though he clearly didn’t buy it.

Riza said nothing, watching the tender way Jean was treating Becca. When he wiped the last of the blood from her face, he said, “I’ll, uh...hang out in the hallway while you get her into her pajamas.”

He slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him to give the two women privacy. Riza quickly changed Becca out of her dress - if the tiny amount of fabric even counted as clothing - and into her pajamas, before tucking her in and heading into the hallway.

“Are you going to get yourself cleaned up?” Riza asked, seeing the thin trail of blood still on Jean’s chin, the scratches and scrapes on his hands. “You look worse than she did.”

“I’m fine, really,” Jean waved her off. “I’ll take a shower when I get home, and I’ll be good to go. I got in a fight back when I was at the academy, and I looked a lot worse than this.”

Riza raised an eyebrow, so Jean insisted, “I’m fine, Riza, I swear.”

“If you say so,” Riza conceded.

Jean cast a glance over Riza’s shoulder, into Rebecca’s room, so Riza smiled and said, “You ought to get home and get some rest, but you two went through a lot tonight. How about you say goodnight to her?”

“She’s passed out. She won’t know,” Jean shook his head, the pink tinge returning to his cheeks.

“Maybe not, but you will,” Riza said.

“O-okay,” Jean nodded, turning redder, before he headed back into Rebecca’s room.

Riza couldn’t make out what he was saying, but as she turned to head back into her living room she caught sight of Jean tucking Rebecca in tighter and gently kissing her forehead.

He closed the door behind him and walked with Riza to her front door. As he stepped into the hallway, he said, “Sorry for showing up like that without calling first. I just figured you were probably worried about her anyway, and with her in the state she was in, I just wanted to get her back here as fast as I could.”

“You did the right thing,” Riza said. “I...don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if you weren’t there. She owes you one. _I_ owe you one - she’s my best friend.”

Jean turned red yet again. “Nobody owes me anything. I did what any decent guy would’ve done. I’m just glad I got there before anything really bad happened.”

“Give yourself a little credit when it’s due,” Riza scowled. “You’re a good man. I don’t know why you insist on selling yourself short.”

“You see, a lot of people might beg to differ on that,” Jean laughed, embarrassed.

“Well, I certainly don’t. And I know Becca wouldn’t either,” Riza frowned. “Honestly, she’s been looking for a guy like you for a long time.”

This only heightened the color in Jean’s cheeks. “What, an alcoholic country hick?”

“No, a caring and clever man who would take care of her. Like you,” Riza’s frown deepened. “Honestly, Jean. You can argue all you want, but don’t think I didn’t see you give her a goodnight kiss.”

“I...uh, well...you see,” Jean stammered, avoiding Riza’s eye.

“It’s okay to say you care about her,” Riza teased.

“I...I mean, I do, but…” Jean managed.

“But?” Riza prompted.

“Look, let’s just both forget that happened, and not ever tell Becca, okay?” Jean said after a brief pause.

“What are you afraid of?” Riza persisted.

“I…” Jean tried, voice cracking. He swallowed hard and tried again, “I...she...Becca deserves somebody better.”

“I don’t know that I know many better men,” Riza smiled, earning a surprised look from Jean. “Besides. Even if what you said was true...don’t you think _she_ ought to be the one to make that decision?”

“I...I guess?” Jean finally said, after a long silence. He added, his voice very small, “...what if she says no?”

“She won’t,” Riza promised. “Believe me, I’m heard her say enough to know she wouldn’t say no. But if you want her to say yes, you’ve got to ask her.”

Jean nodded before finally managing, “O-okay. I will, when she’s feeling better. Thanks, Ri.”

Riza smiled again. “Of course. Are you sure you’re okay to walk home? You can always sleep on the couch if need be.”

“No, I’ll be fine. It’s a nice night,” Jean shook his head. “Besides, now...I’ve got some thinking to do, I guess. Don’t wanna fuck this up, like I did the last time I tried to ask a girl out.”

Riza laughed. “I don’t think you will. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Right,” Jean said, shifting awkwardly. “Well, thanks. Uh...I should get going, so you can get some sleep. It’s late.”

“Make sure you get some yourself,” Riza said. “I’ll call tomorrow and let you know how Becca’s doing.”

“Thanks,” Jean smiled, relief spreading across his face. “I...I’d like that.”

“Thank _you_ , Jean. You were there for Becca when I should’ve been,” Riza replied. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Probably about as much as she means to me,” Jean said, before realizing what he’d said and turning crimson yet again. “I...uh, I’m gonna...go.”

Riza laughed as she waved goodbye and closed the door behind him.

Dealing with Rebecca in the morning was going to be an adventure, but what mattered for now was that she wasn’t badly hurt and she was safe, able to sleep off the night in peace. All thanks to Jean.

Rebecca had once asked Riza to find her a good man in Central. Well, they were in Central, and Jean Havoc was a damn good man. Granted, Riza’s plan had initially involved less alcohol and adventure, but this seemed to fit the pair better, somehow.

In a way, it was even the beginning of the fairytale romance Rebecca had always wanted - a dashing knight saving a damsel in distress. Riza couldn’t have set it up better if she’d tried.

Someday, Rebecca would thank Riza. Not tomorrow - definitely not tomorrow morning - but someday.


End file.
